A place in my head...

I know you're sat in front of a computer screen and I know you can read these words.


Walk with me a little in companionship. Perhaps feel my arm around you, your arm around me. Look ahead and share with me what I see as I raise my arm and point. There's a glade over there, a few jumbled rocky hillocks one almost looks like a cottage; trees (Ash and elm and the occasional oak) to the left of us and green meadow fields in front of us. To our right is a cliff to the sea. You can hear the waves crashing against the rocks below, not an intruding noise more relaxing with the ebb and flow. Sometimes I sit and watch those waves for hours. Daft isn't it?

This place is special to me. It's always peaceful here... never seems to rain... the smell of rosemary and lavender lingers in the air. Other herbs too. There's a freshness and a peace. Sometimes I'm here alone, sometimes I'm with company. Like now. Occasionally I'm with loved ones who've left me, and we talk a little. Like you and I are now. I come here to think, to put peace into my soul, to visit with old friends. It's a beautiful place I hope you agree. I'm smiling a little here. Look up! See those clouds hanging there? Do you remember as a child how you'd look upwards and marvel at the sight of such beauty? The peaceful majesty of it? Sometimes I forget too.

You think this isn't real? It is you know... :-) It's as real as anything you've ever perceived, as any fond memory you've ever recalled. This place is real all right... and I'm showing it to you for a reason – to share it.

I've seen some amazing things it doesn't compare to those clouds above us right now... yet look around here. The sheer untrammeled beauty of the place. There is no comparison. All our best art ever does is try to recapture or interpret the original. This is the original! :-) But you know as I do that we all take this for granted. Because we see it around us all the time, the ability to marvel diminishes with familiarity. But that's just our perception... what changes is us.... not this beauty. This is immutable, even if our perception isn't.

You ever wondered why as people we make things over-complex? How we'll more readily believe in a conspiracy instead of a simple fact that's open to interpretation? I think religion is like that too. We make these things so complex. Look around you. Smell the clean air, listen to the birds singing. Feel the breeze. Bible, Koran, Torah... they all fall over themselves in their complexity. They're all complex truths constructed by us to help us understand. But we so easily forget how those clouds looked to us as children... and buy something else that's over-complex and even divisive. If they taught about Gaia in schools they'd have to recycle those books! *chuckles*

This place, this secret place. I wanted to share it with you because its special to me. Anytime you want to come you're welcome. But you know... it's your place too now. You can make it your own. And even if you don't visit again, it'll stay there in your minds eye, always waiting for you.

One last thought, while you can hear me and we're together in companionship. This last thought is simple. For everything that divides us, sets us apart, even makes us argue, makes us see things differently - there is so much more that binds us. So much more. But its like those clouds in the sky.... sometimes those things that are so familiar become invisible to us, and we no longer see them. But they never ever go away, its us. Our fault. We're the ones who are blind to those simple things. Sometimes even willfully so. But a different perception is only that, nothing more. Just a way of seeing a particular thing and sharing it.

And so, now, we can see only a screen and a keyboard again. And words. For a moment we were together though and saw through the same eyes. My special place. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed your company. You can do one last thing for me though, if you'd be so kind. If you've shared this place with me, and understood what I meant, add a comment to that effect. You see, I want to come back here and see who my companions were.......

There’s a constant buzz inside her, images of their games wash in and out at the most unexpected moments. Good job no one can read her mind, she smiles.

Always present, an ever burning background noise, her desire for his touch. It’s not as simple as that though. His touch, his control. A pot-pourri of wishes. A raging hunger for a mixed menu. She could bite someone, something, just sink my teeth in and savage while all the time time her mind chants:' I need need need it. It, everything, something, anything, it. Now, please!'

The relief, just the sheer relief of him walking in and taking over. His decisions, his choices, his controls. He’s fully aware of her desperation. She knows he’ll use it.What better sex weapon is there when she is in this state of mind than her own very mind?

Her body screaming and aching to respond to just the warmth of his body. His voice lapping over her, washing her mind with warm sordid wants. She knows her body betrays her, skin flushing, responses apparent in every place that he expects. 'I need need need…. it.' her mind chants still,her body joining in. The craven desperate whore. So close now she can taste it. Yet he waits and plays, toys and torments, enjoys the moment. She's all impulse and burning need, now now now she's screaming inside.

He smiles and loiters, pauses and peruses. Takes his pleasure, builds and calms, builds and calms, her storm. Now now now. How can he wait. What better thing than to see this woman controlled by a smile, a finger, a word, anything.

Now now now. Finally he smiles, to the bed he says

Waiting.....

I found this else where and liked it a lot... 

What is this thing that growls and snarls inside?... It's irritable, it's unsettled, and it desires to be untied... Scowling around, menacing and threatening... Wanting to be free, head and body wrestling...

The mind craves the vision, all curled up at his feet... The body yearns to be free, and to be complete... But the mind cries and resists, frightened of hurt... Silently the body withdraws, rapidly..

Trying in vain searching to find the right path... Meeting dissatisfaction and frustration... Patience strops and wants to be left at the door... The heart yearns for its saviour

How do you quieten the pacing, prowling tiger?... Watching, waiting to face its missing owner... Then in open, futile defiance holds his stare,.. Will he walk, or will he defeat the coldness...

Testing and probing all the possible limits... Pushing, evaluating and assessing... Is he genuine and real, does he mean all he Portrays?... Will he be there, good and bad always...

Battling to dump all the past and move on... Ugly duckling transcending to a beautiful swan... Who will have the patience and ability to see... The hungry tiger is really not that mighty and gutsy...

But whilst the mind craves for that wonderful vision... So it runs, stumbling and dodging its own mission... The body cries for all its wanton desires... And then just as fast, puts out all its own fires...

The struggle rages on and simmers like a volcano... Darkness covering the yearning with its shadow... Does the volcano erupt and spill its fiery brimstone... Or can he bring peace and comfort alone?...

I am waiting to find out......

Vulnerability...

is a two sided coin.IMHO

On the one side, you've got people who have absolutely no concept how difficult it is to push past that wall of vulnerability your waning sense of self confidence has erected and put yourself out there, be it emotionally or physically, when it would be just as easy to hide behind that wall for fear of emotional injury, whether it be rejection or an off-handed comment that may or may not be innocently given, but is none the less hurtful. And on the other side, you've got those people who understand perfectly how very hard it is because they live their lives behind that wall and the mere thought of stepping out from behind it leaves their palms sweaty and their hearts racing.

"We can be our own worst critics, can't we?" And there are no truer words. I know that I am, without question, my own worst critic in everything I do, from writing all the way down to the image that stares back at me in the mirror. "We have to love ourselves first, which is so difficult in a world where the idea is virtually unobtainable by all but the slimmest margin of woman.
Someone in a conversation said to me "All of us are forced to be so self critical of our beautiful bodies because society has decided that a woman is not attractive unless she looks like some mans vision of the perfect female specimen."

With those odds, it's hard not to be our own worst critics and harder still to move past that wall of vulnerability we've erected, but yet there are those of us who occasionally throw caution to the wind and step out from behind that wall.

I don't fool myself into thinking that the things I write or the feelings I express here will touch or move everyone who pass through here on a daily basis, I imagine a good amount of people skim through my words and move onto the next place, but when something I've written does touch someone to the point that they feel confident enough to step out from behind their own personal wall, then it's enough...

Dreaming...

I’m haunted, I’ll admit it. The mere hint of you turns my world upside down. My existence is peppered with the translucent imagery of you, naked in the half light, your body glowing with desire and need, your ever-slight showing defined by the ache within and the havoc you constantly wreak in my mind. I’m left alone and burning and in want, seeking something that was always there to begin with.

The moment I reach out,when I see you fully, and when I do, you’re gone, whisper thin smoke curls from my fingertips. I’m left with your words heavy in the air, your desires firmly embedded within my own frame. I cannot help but laugh at myself for such imagery.

A small voice...

This is not aimed at anyone, really not. This is just something to help with understanding things, understanding me & for that matter, others. Thank you :)

There is a small voice I live with. I suspect other people live with this too. It's that little voice that magnifies all your niggles, your wobbles/wibbles to the point that you cannot ignore it.

It starts quietly enough to the point that you try to make it go away. Bit by bit you find that it can get louder.
It will whisper that you will never be as good as what they have now or have had. In a mono relationship it's bad enough but in a poly relationship that can mean that you find more faults with yourself than with others, magnifies everything more. Whispers to you that, why on earth would they be interested in you? :(when the others are so so much better than you.
But it doesn't end there, oh to have it that simple. It can raise it's head when a new person is around, it also can lizard it's way into the most secure feelings you have, ones that you had never doubted before. It can cause you to look at things from every angle.. Micro managing.

And if you secure in the fact that you are poly, this little voice can still give you the wobbles.
All this little voice needs is for them to ignore you a few times,  to make an offhanded remark. Forget to tell you something important. It then starts to make you question. What is it that they have got, that you haven't. Why can't they do that with me?? And when you find no answers that are apparent. You turn it on yourself, what have I done? Why am I not good enough? Am obviously too much trouble..... And so it goes on!

And It's not if you can explain it logically, it's not logical. It is reactions to things that have happened in the past, you can't control it and when it starts, oh boy it's not as easy as switching off a light or something. You can do things to take your mind off but it'll be there when all is quiet or you least expect.

Things get twisted, turned inside out & you feel that there is no end. Talking about it helps, and they realise it's not an attack on him or anyone connected most of the time. Writing it down, sharing it with people that have similar experiences does help too. As they know how the small voice works.

It's not people seeking attention, nor are people wanting sympathy. Best thing is understanding, good communication and patience. That way the small voice might just not always get the better of us.

Arghhh...

I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...I want...
*chuckles*

NSFW.... NSFW.... Shhh secrets I keep ......NSFW... NSFW..

For P. 

Giving pleasure to my lover is something that transcends arousal, for me - it's everything. There is nothing more erotic, more satisfying, more unbelievable than giving untold pleasure to your partner and watch the pleasure ride them until everything breaks loose and they jump and shudder and moan.

 I like to be noisy - again, I've always found it to be a powerful aphrodisiac both for my lovers and for me, as well. Being noisy lets your partner know how well you're enjoying their hands, their tongue, their cock.... or any other body part, for that matter. And to me, sound is an important element in the act of lovemaking - sex is never better than when it involves all the senses fully. The taste of sweat on your lover's shoulder, the musky smell in the crease where hip meets thigh, the feel of hard muscle, soft skin and crisp hair, the look in your partner's eyes as they feel pleasure, and the moans and gasps of sex all combine into a delicious cornucopia that is veritable feast for the senses.

I like to tease, at least temporarily. You know I find it arousing to hold back and delay the gratification... which only serves to make it more powerful when the time finally comes to fulfil the wish that has been promised but not delivered.

What don't you know about me?

You don't know how my face looks when I'm being touched, how my eyes grow smoky and lidded, how the little crease between my eyes deepens as I bite my lip against the onslaught of pleasure.

You don't know what my voice sounds like as my pleasure builds, as my body begins to tighten and I cry out with desire and wanting and...

But what you don't know, most of all, is my secret fantasy.

For all that I love to give pleasure, for all that I love to watch a man shudder and jump between my palms, my lips, my biggest fantasy lies not there.

It doesn't involve whips and chains. In this most secret and important of fantasies, there need be no three-inch heels, rubber toys, devices that vibrate or penetrate or both. No famous people are involved, and very few props would be needed.

My most intimate fantasy is this:

To be touched. Touched in soft and unhurried ways. Touched for the purpose of drawing out the pleasure rather than hurrying it up.

I'd like to be laid out, tied up even, wholly at the mercy of someone (you) who would take their time, build the suspense, draw out the pleasure until I feel like I'm on a rack and someone is slowly, sweetly, tightening the screws.

I'd like to be kissed as though that kiss is the most erotic thing in the world, for either of us. I'd like to be touched in places not so obvious - the sensitive area behind my ear, the back of my neck, the valley between my breasts, the hollow on the inside of my elbow.

I'd like to feel your tongue in places not so obvious - the crease between neck and shoulder, the inside of my knee, the length of my spine.

I close my eyes and imagine your fingers circling my nipples, featherlight. You don't know that my nipples are incredibly sensitive, but they are. I've even had an orgasm just from having my nipples touched and sucked. But that was a long time ago...

The tips of your fingers just barely circle my nipples, and they grow tighter and tighter beneath your touch. I'm going insane at your teasing - whimpers coming from my throat, gasps, while my body starts to shiver from arousal.

I imagine feeling your palms running over my skin - my shoulders, my arms, my chest, my waist, my legs... There are so many places that have gone untouched for years. I imagine your hands finding every hollow, every crevice, every satiny smooth curve.

In my mind's eye, I can see your face, and this is by far the most powerfully erotic component of my fantasy. I can see the satisfied little smirk on your face as I watch your fingers hovering over my nipples, not quite touching. My body is moving restlessly and I'm wholly focused on the movement of your fingers over my body.

I watch your eyes darken as I lift my hips towards you, pleading for your touch.

I feel your eyes bore into me as you lower your head to my breast, taking me into your mouth, watching me as I close my eyes and moan at the sensations glittering through my veins.

You suckle so sweetly just at the very tip of my breast, making my breath come faster, the pulse between my thighs throb harder.

You slide your tongue along my inner thigh. I gasp at the feeling. There is nothing in my world at that moment - no thoughts, no sounds, no scents - nothing in the world but the sensation of your tongue sliding along my inner thigh, so close to where I want you that the imagery stuns me, makes me weak.

You're watching me, fascinated by the play of emotions over my face. Suspense, desire, and a hint of curiosity too.

You slide a hand up my thigh, slowly, and I watch your fingers as they travel higher, higher.

You slip that finger softly, so lightly, between my lips, already wet with desire. My spine bows a little and my muscles start to clench. Your first touch inside me makes me shiver.

You tease and soothe, advance and retreat, over and over and over until my breath is jerking and my muscles are tight and I'm begging you, literally begging you, to end my torment. I feel like a marionette all tangled in knots, all tight strings and helpless tension.

Just as I feel I'm about to scream out in arousal and frustration, you untie my limbs and climb above me and slide your cock in deep, riding high on my clit, grinding your pelvis against mine. I stiffen and shudder and moan with the force of my orgasm, and before I've even had the opportunity to draw breath I can feel you sliding inside me, giving me no quarter, tiny revolutions of your cock against me followed by deep, hard thrusts that seem to fill my entire body.

I can't help myself, I'm moaning helplessly, buffeted by sensation as I wrap my legs around your waist, pulling you down into me harder and harder with each thrust.

My pulse quickens, my breath shortens, even my nipples lift and ache when I think about what you don't know about me - my secret, most cherished fantasy.

Being wanted. Being pursued.

After a seeming lifetime of having to chase, having to beg and being rejected, this alone could drive me wilder than any position, and place, any other scenario. And at the same time, it could serve to heal the wounds that the past several years have left on something essential and womanly inside of me.

For now, at least, the secret is mine to keep.

Come with me...

Take my hand and follow me. Creep with me down the dark hall. I lead you to the door. It creaks open as I push gently.

Follow me into the room….

The golden glow of candlelight kisses our faces and enlightens our eyes. The scent of roses invades our nostrils. The bed is made and adorned with rose petals. Reds, pinks, yellows… splash the crisp white comforter. So gentle. So soft. So inviting.

Take your hands and run them over my clothed body.

Now work your fingers and release me of such bondage. Lift my shirt over my head. Unbutton my pants and allow your hands to trail my legs as you let them slide to the floor.

Get on your knees before me.

Trace the contours of my body with your fingertips. Press your lips against my tender spots. Let me feel your breath thru the fabric of my panties. Remove them… ever so slowly… run your lips down my legs.

Come back to me. Lay your hands on my breasts. Hold them. Caress them. Run my nipples gently through your fingertips. Send little shocks down my back.

Kiss me… I mean … REALLY kiss me. Press you lips hard against mine. Lose yourself in me. Shove your tongue inside my mouth. Let me taste you. Let me play with you. I want you. Can you feel it in the way I kiss you back? That’s it. No need to worry. Settle yourself into the kiss. Feel my passion and desire for you.

Move me….

To the bed. Take your clothes off. Come sit beside me as I lay here. Show me how much you desire me. Watch the candlelight as it dances off my skin. I see you looking at the oil. Take it. Lather your hands in the oil…. now touch me. Yes… run your oiled hands all over my body. Run your hands down my back and my neck. Let me feel them on my buttocks. Give them a squeeze. Work that oil into my skin. Down my legs. Massage my calves.

Now turn me over…

I can feel the petals sticking to my oiled back. Here I am for you. . Oil up your hands and run them over my breasts. Listen to me moan. My breath quickens. Can you feel that? The heat of desire I have for you? You can feel it as you run your hands lower. I breath in your being. Settling into your presence. Come with me… let us see where the night takes us. What would you have me do?

Wild.....

Some days, the animal inside is closer to the surface than others. There's no telling what will bring her up to the surface or what she'll want when she gets there. That's always the question. She's aggressive particularly when she's in one of *those* moods.

Today was one of those days. The only music that appealed to her was music with a heavy rhythm to them, Music she can stalk and slink to...music that she can hurt or be hurt to...music that brings out the driving sexual, sensual side of her, where everything is blood and bone and claw and raw instinct.

The eyes....they can always tell where she's at. Heavy, slitted, they watch everyone that moves around her, seeking out those that are prey and those that might bend her around to their will. Picking out who she will push against and who she'll let pass by was easy.

Arousal. Heat. She won't be satisfied until she finds the person that will match her. The person that has that inner animal that can control and make her give over, who can push her to slip out of the chains she keeps around the wildness inside. To just be. Elemental. Wild.

Wanting.......

a glance; a smile
eyes that dance
looking right into my soul
touching me from the inside out

a wink; a touch
skin softer than silk
my breath catches
a shiver runs down my spine

a caress; a grin
throaty laughter
fills the air between us

a whisper; a lick
my muscles tighten - waiting
so much tension.. almost tanglible

a kiss; a moan
the feel of your lips on mine
the glide of your tongue

wanting...

I constantly battle thoughts like: "I'm such a screw up," "He thinks I'm an absolute emotional wreck," "I can't ever do anything right," "He doesn't really care, he's just saying that so he doesn't lose me," ... you know you've got some baggage inside. It happens to me every time...and worse. And not a single bit of it is true. But it's what's been drilled into my head in the past, quite forcefully. Finally, I'm coming to terms with it.

It's rather humbling to admit that you really do have problems. I never want to say it... It seems selfish and irresponsible to blame my issues on anyone, or anything, except myself and the things I have done. So many times I have watched people use their pasts as a crutch for their present; an excuse for their actions and their biting tongues. That's not the type of person I want to be - I believe that everyone should take full responsibility for who they are in word and deed.

But when you can't understand why you feel the way you do sometimes, and why things get so horribly confused and painful... it's sort of free-ing to your tortured mind to think, "These automatic thoughts and actions are results of my past...and they will go away with time and effort."

My head flashes back, my sensitivities highten, I see resemblences in what's being done, or said, and I immediately merge the present with the past. It's horrible. Something inside me just absolutely panics, and I become terrified of being broken to pieces. I throw up every sort of defense you can possibly imagine.

 It's so hard sometimes. But then again, it's helping me to get past it all and the positives soooooo outweigh the negatives. I guess it would have to be a case by case determination.

Trust. Clear communication. Unconditional love. Those are the vitals...without those,  relationships couldn't survive.

It's difficult to find the words to express something like this. I think, facts are facts...
 I overthink things. Actually, I know I do. And I know why let's just say, it's another one of those defense mechanisms my mind throws up to deflect accidentally saying the wrong thing in the wrong way.
Anyway...

I know that was more like rambling, but maybe it will help me sort things out better for the future.

Bonded....

Have you ever felt that instantaneous bond with someone?
As you read their words, as you allow your eyes to drink the words as you identify with their sexual soul, it’s like there is an unseen connection, a knowing that travels back and forth from you to them.


The longer you spend with them, the more the feeling grows, warm and silky like hot, oozing molasses they snake into the silent parts of your mind, softly settling until you realise they gently haunt your thoughts. This coupling happens immediately, and as you spend time with that person, as you really listen and recognize that you share their values and qualities, beliefs you hold so closely yourself, you feel the bond grow stronger and stronger.

Sometimes you instantly know you like and trust them, it’s as if you’ve known them for a long, long time. And the distance and differences between you collapse in the unique beauty of the priceless and timeless connection between you and them. Barriers dissolve, walls melt and defences relax because you feel so absolutely comfortable, safe and at ease with them, and you are able to imagine a time in the future when you are electrifying close to this person, and you realize that from the first moment you encountered them, you were captivated. As you connect and respond, the power surges as it races through your veins. It feels good, and it builds, pulsing and pounding as your attachment deepens.

Take a few moments to feel out your own pulse…on your wrist…. or maybe your neck, allow the throb of your own lifeblood to feedback through your fingers…and smile because life is so precious and fragile, and for those vital seconds you held your own life-force consciously close. Allow your eyes to meet with those of strangers and share your grace. Someone wise once said, you don’t know that your smile won’t save someone’s life in that moment. It matters, it makes a difference and for all you know, that stranger may be me.

Come inside my world.....

‘View weblogs as online journals, no less sacred than a diary hidden between the mattresses.’
(Part of a disclaimer on another journal site)


Whether you are here by invitation or accident, I need you to understand that this space is sacred to me and that all my words are from the heart. I don’t write for other people’s pleasure, I’m flattered and pleased that people enjoy my words, but I write for myself first and foremost.

So why write online? Why not keep pen and paper journals, or hold the files in a private place?

It’s a valid question, and not one for which I have an easy answer. I believe people start journals with very different intentions in mind, and generally speaking, that flavour is evident and in part determines the readership. Around these common interests communities grow, friendships are fostered.

I have absolutely no idea how many journal contain sexual experiences or referances, there are or what percentage dedicate themselves to sexual content, but I would think it’s pretty high. What are the chances of someone you know stumbling upon you in that colossal cyber sea? Surprisingly high actually, because it is a small world and the notion of 6 degrees of separation is a kinky concept come true. Given this exposure, am I naïve to consider my space safe in some senses?

Perhaps hopeful over naïve but in the main the respect I am afforded suggests that such faith rests on firm ground. As cyber relations evolve, etiquette finds itself in the same strange place as intimacy. Which courtesies are to be observed in this online arena?

Many of us write about encounters and people without seeking the consent of those concerned. We change names, essential details, embellish facts not to deny truth but to protect those we care for and play with, whilst affording maximum expression. It’s not always an easy trade but it allows the disclosure we need.

That doesn’t make it ok and it doesn’t mitigate the hurt or surprise that can be caused. There is a flipside to this, and that is, once you realise you’re reading the words of someone you know, do you continue? Should you continue?

There are 3 choices:

1. write and be damned
2. Don’t write about it at all, or rather don’t post it
3. Seek consent.

Number three is the pivotal one really, because let’s just assume consent is given, what you’re also doing is offering an invitation into your inner world. Are you happy with your erotic playmates reading everything about you? And anyway, it isn’t that simple because while we don’t play in a vacuum, we don’t necessarily tell each other everything. Perhaps we *should*.

I’m also angry because I don’t wish to temper my voice. I was mute for years and years about my sexuality and it was only through online exploration that I came to realise and finally embrace my switch self. If it hadn’t been for those raw and painfully honest writings I’m sure I’d still be as confused now. As it is there is much about this aspect of my nature I struggle with.

And here’s another thing, through writing about this I’ve come into contact with kindred spirits and while protecting the parameters of our private lives, we’ve transcended the details to probe the soul of this sexual need. Before Shades I starved for that communion whereas now I have many amazing friendships. I wouldn’t trade my contact with you for the world and in so many ways my writing is a dedication to you all.

On that bridge from the dark times to now, I discovered writing. I’m doing it again, I’m omitting essential details. Writing was a way out, a way back. That is no exaggeration and you can all happily accept the part you played in that healing. I’m sure it’s evident but I think I’ve changed a lot from the woman I was, from the creature who created this journal. While I’m still as technically incompetent, I’m growing in other ways.

*sighs*
I accept my responsibilities here. But I have a request to make of the people who know me, who read me.

For all the flaws and foibles of this medium, my interaction with it and the people who come here, this is my space, my sanctum. You read in full consciousness. I can’t and won’t censor myself to pacify or assuage your sensibilities or preconceptions of who you think I am. Journaling is often likened to a mirror, only in this context, the reflection speaks back.

Take my hand. Dance with me. The erotic is the most exquisite dance of all, and I remain your secret partner and friend.

Wanton thoughts....

They come in flashes of brilliant light. The things I want to do to you, want to watch have done to you. What I want you do to do me.

Brief gasps and moans. A flash of wet lips. The caress of a gentle hand. The hard pinch of a nipple.

The things I'd say. Could I? Would I unleash it all and articulate the things my brain screams out in brief fantasy? Whispered entreaties. Demands. Would I say what's on the tip of my tongue or would I lick you instead, rubbing my words down your neck?

Straps on arms. Wrists bound. Mine or yours?

Wet. So wet. Hard. Trembling muscles. The fire on my thighs. Or yours?

Would I? If I could? Would you?

You....

Just to Be With You

Debauchery is all very well and good. Very good, in fact.

But it's not all there is. It's not the be-all and end-all. And when it comes to you and I, it's not even the most important part of things.

Sometimes, the little things are all that count. A brush of the cheek from an outstretched hand. A soft touch on the arm. An admiring stroke of a soft white belly as we lie, side-by-side, content just to be.

This is what I want today. Just to be. With you.

Please, spoon into my back, and put your arms around me. Let me hear you breathe; feel your soft warm breath on my ear.

Go on. Let me delight in the feeling of our fingers entwining and twistingly playing together; each hand tickling and dancing, brushing finger against finger; sending sparks of electricity through my body.

Pull me towards you with your strong arms. Let our bodies meld together.

Now kiss me. Yes ... yes .... yes. Just like that. Soft, sweet, sensual and full of feeling.

To know that I will return to you. You know it. And right now ... I just want to be with you

Bdsm and boxes....

My thoughts on generalizations and the boxes we set each other in. Oh and of course, where I fit into all this..

Why generalize? But people do, do that. People put people and concepts within boxes, in their minds. It is human natures way of coping with the vast amount of information that gets thrown at it every day. At it's basis is a form of survival.

Now, all us here within bdsm are in a box. Society has put us there. This box has many names, perverts, deviants, weirdos, them people that do that stuff to each other box. And withinn this box of ours, again people generalize and place people in compartments with names also. Dom/mes, subs, sadists, masochists, fetishists, rubberists etc etc....

There are limits we here place on ourselves and where we draw the lines of demarkation that seperate our own little boxes. Within that knowledge I was trying to find out where I fit in withing this larger box of ours.

If it was always done in a certain way *what some people might consider the right or proper way* then wouldn't that be just as boring as straight vanilla sex with lights out? So often when sex and bdsm and vanilla life and everything else all fits together it's mindblowing for the people involved.

BDSM isn't always about sex, but it is sometimes.

Sex isn't always about BDSM, but it is sometimes.

You see, I do not see myself as vanilla, nor do I see myself as solely bdsm. I do not see myself serving a Dom 24/7, neither do I see myself as always wanting sex. I do not see myself being play partner neither do I see myself as never wanting that. I do not see always needing pain, but sometimes cuddles and reassurance. I do not see myself as always happy with my lot, nor am I disatisfied. Sometime I see myself as fat, at other times, I am just me.

The only boundaries that are placed on me in life are the boundries and limitations of other peoples minds. So does me wanting a loving and sexual relationship with a man even a woman,(I bi and happy to be so,) wanting a man or woman to do all kinds of wonderful and painful things to me, in their form as a Dom/me, make me a devient in a sub society of deviants? NO. It just makes me, me!

You see I try to have no boundaries or limits in my life. I try to be free to explore and sense what is around me. I do not feel constrained by my thoughts on what I should be or not be. I have a foot, a hand, a brain cell in every box. We should exist to live, not live to exist.

NSFW..... NSFW...NSFW...

A single bead of sweat rolls down my spine. My back is arched, curved, thighs spread.
My arms are over my head, bound at the wrists.

He circles me like the predator he is. Eyes raking over me with such avarice it's a physical touch. He's inside me. Not physically, not yet. That happens soon. But now, his head is in mine, his presence holds me open to his gaze and I have nowhere to hide.

I am his to look on, to touch, to examine and shivers of desire work through me. Anticipation, leaden in my stomach.

Black Dog Days......

I don't really write about these, mostly because I do feel it would come across as moaning when I have very little to moan about.  I really need to just let rip sometimes rather than sit and wonder how many people I have insulted with my meh status. This is rather silly.. I have feelings, I am sure that my friends will see it as vent rather than it be an insult to them.
And I know and fully understand that there are people that are not doing as well as me..

So what's caused this meltdown.. I have a feeling that's a combination of tiredness, and the grey weather, the fact that I have not dealt with a lot of stuff with the break with L, Badger not getting the help that we were expecting back at the new year and just little things happening one after another. Not big stuff at all, just the fact that I bury it, get on with it. Unfortunatly it's not a bottomless pit, damn shame and suddenly you realise that you are crying for no reason. You are almost resentful, angry and the little things suddenly turn into mountains rather than stuff you can step over.

According to the counsellor that I saw last year, I cope very well with the stress, probably too well, so they feel that there is little they can do for me. I am not a suicide risk, nor will I harm anyone else. I am too controlled and while I will relax to talk to them, they mentioned that they felt I was always holding back, was surprised when I never cried at the sessions.
Yes trhere are things I can work on and I am trying but six sessions was not enough time and because they feel that they can't help I was not offered any more or further sessions else where.

So it seems the walls are thick and strong and I am chipping away at them.. but every now and then someone will come smashing through them, and I panic as no one is allowed to see me vulnerable.. that's not the way that it works.
Being involved with people is good I can cope with that cos I can still have a bit of distance, not that it happens with everyone. Some good close friends have been around for a number of years, they see me but there are never so many barriers or walls. But what scares me, still what makes me hide is being in love with someone.. or a few someones.. *wry chuckle*

Being in love, smashes walls down and makes me feel vulnerable and very much exposed. Just because the walls are smashed doesn't mean to say that triggers, niggles are not there. They seem to be amplified because there is no where to hide behind, no mask to put on. All the past comes home to roost, it's up to you to have to deal with all the wobbles, insecurites, and it's not just yours, there are other people that will be caught up in all this too.

And that's when things can get a little messy, complicated. You don't want to tar people with the same brush as the past, but it happens. It's a fact that you wait for things to go wrong, cos it has done in the past so what should this be any different?  You want to explain, but that would feel like you are after the sympathy vote so you don't You don't believe in yourself, which goes hand in hand with you are so not worth of theiur attentions of course they are going to find someone better.

You can be at times your own worst enemy. And you join the dots when there are none to join.. It's not madness, it's not judgmental. It's your own history, experiences ( bad ones mostly) coming out to play with your head in a bad way. After so much re inforcement of you are not worthy, you are just a passing throwaway until I can find something better, is it any wonder that the castle that you live in has so many reinforced walls. Trying to explain that to a person that you love is hard, and makes you want to run away, hide because you can feel you have failed them in not being the most shizzle together person they thought you were. That you have failings and sometimes those wobbles will turn you into something that is not attractive at all...

That's where I tend to lock myself away until such time as I feel I can handle, cope with the way I am feeling.. it doesn't always work and on times I don't like myself very much at all, which makes it even harder to see why people like me.

I have a mental illness, it helps and hinders me, I am not after sympathy I would just like your understanding and help to make me less batshit, less of a basketcase. Thank you.

This is mostly past history to try and explain some of the things that can upset me or cause triggers.

And before that the ex husband, who told me I was too fat to be attractive or to sleep with, and that I was boring in bed. Then there was Tony. I have not said much about what went on some of it has been forgotten on purpose.
But the are things that since I am trying to become more relaxed etc that I think I really need to explain.

Tony made me second guess myself, made me paranoid that I was the one that was imagining things that he was being straight, honest and yet was lying through his fecking teeth.
This all started with the Bunny Boiler Heni.

When they first met, three meetings on, which he swore were harmless, they ended up in a hotel room for the afternoon, he then announced it proudly to me via a phone call on the way home to his wife. After he had told me that there was no spark between them and she was good company.

He used to to tell me he was going to work,and then ended up spending the days/nights with Heni, after she kicked out her Hubby for Tony. He proposed to her on Valentine's day, oh he had done that to me not two years before.

Over the next 3 years, he lied to me and to Heni. And I was blind not to notice it.. I wanted it to be ok. Once Wendy was dead he left it for a month then started 'dating'. By this time Heni had dumped him and moved on of sorts. Little did I know until Ty confessed a few months after I moved away, that he had slept with most of them which is why I was asked to keep an eye on his daughter/dog/house. He swore blind that he was Poly and that he would be happy to spend his life with me, as long as we were poly. This was after all the crap that when he wanted Heni and just her. That she could give him more kids, that she was fantastically inventive in bed.. and things like that.

Two days after my birthday he went on a site called mysinglebestfriend. And was checking out women there saying he was only looking. That's where he met Shosh. He did not have the guts to tell me that after the first day he met her, she was the one. But he still didn't want to give me up so he said. The twice he went to dinner he swore blind that he did not sleep with her. Again I later found out that he lied. It all came to a head when I walked out to have a cigarette and they were down below me, hands all over each other, and kissing like there was no tomorrow. So I was then sat down by Tony & told that it was over, I should have seen it coming, no she couldn't do poly and that Tony couldn't live with out her and that Shosh would be moving in by Dec. This was the end of Oct he had known her for little over a month.

I made the mistake of accepting a holiday with them at Xmas. It was as they said an apology. I had asked that since we were only there for two days, could they not be intimate as I was still rather raw. They agreed and then they broke that agreement, (it was a play session followed by sex I had to walk past the door) which ended up with me walking out and spending three hours in the freezing cold by the sea on Boxing day.

As I said at the beginning of this, he made me feel like I was the one imagining all this, and that he had been totally straight. He also made me out to be a psycho when I got annoyed when I confronted him. And told all of his friends that I would lie to them about things that had happened, so I was to be ignored. All this plus being treated like the maid/childminder etc.
I was gullible and he was very persuasive.

So while I try to stay calm and relaxed things are going to make me flinch a little. The whole sleeping/fancying thing is one that I have managed to do to myself, I know it needs to stop but the little voice always there. It's not an attention thing, it's just that when you are dumped for someone younger etc. And I am always half expecting the boot in regards to my performance in bed. The play aspect was sort of squashed by L and I hope that will change soon enough, but I do miss it. I got twitchy if I feel someone is keeping something from me. And I can get rather narky & nasty if that's the case :( I am not proud of myself and after Tony's description of me to his friends.  I also worry about introducing people, if that things happen, I am still always afraid that it will be left out.

So I really hope that you can understand this is not a post for sympathy. It's happened, I am still working through things cos a lot got put on hold, so now is the time to process sort and discard that which is not good for in regards to my self esteem.

Walking in the Shadows....

I will try to explain my dark side. It something that's difficult for me to explain.

Like everyone else, I have had pain in my life. I don't feel that I have had more than my share. I have had more than some and less that others. I finally locked the pain away in a trunk that I hid in the deepest recesses of my consciousness. It allowed me to function. When I was ready, I would tap into the trunk and deal with the contents, a little at a time, until I was at a good place. I healed, but I found that some dark shadows remained in the trunk. I stored it away and used it as necessary. It was a good system until a few years ago. At that time, I went through one of the darkest periods in my life. I had several bad things happen in rapid succession. I didn't have time to deal with one before something else happened. In order to survive, I locked the pain away with every intention of dealing with it when things settled down.

It took over a year for my life to get settled down. By that time, however, the trunk that once contained the darkest shadows of my existence had grown to an entire room. The amount of pain that I had locked away was staggering. It was too much for me to deal with it as I had in the past. The darkness was also no longer as contained as it once was. It seeps out from time to time, darkening my thoughts and emotions like a thick fog. I try to push it away, but it's very difficult. The one thing that I have found that will clear my mind is physical pain.

When I experience pain, I describe it as swimming in the ocean. It is a test of endurance to try to remain afloat. I ride out the waves of pain as someone would trying to tread water in a storm. As long as I keep my head above water, I can stay afloat. It's when something happens that I lose space and feel as though I'm drowning. That something could be a sensation that's too intense, or something in the surroundings like a person talking too loudly or another scene that's gotten too loud. There is something in the experience, though, that is very healing for me. There is something in the pain that is a release for me. There is something in my experience that clears my mind, pushing the darkness away, leaving me feeling centered and balanced again.

My dark side is ironic, in a way. Sometimes when it is invading my mind, it feels comforting. It attempts to draw me in like a Siren, making me want to embrace the darkness and wrap myself up in the shadows. It's like I want it to envelop me so completely that I disappear altogether. My only source of resistance comes from the fact that I know what it feels like to be immersed in my darkness. I lose all sense of myself and have little regard for my own life. I lose hope. It's not who I am, and it's not what I want to be, so I am able to push it away.

For the past week or so, my dark side has been looming. I can feel myself involuntarily drawing in on myself, isolating myself from the world around me as well. I'm fighting it as best I can, but that's why I have been complaining about needing pain lately... serious pain. I need to be hurt so that I scream and moan. I need to be hurt so that I cry. I know that after that, everything will be better.

Confidence.... says who?

I recently turned my attention to a bit of self-realization: the more I like someone, the more wibbly/worried I get (to which I was told by a friend, "Duh, you're a girl"). You'd think age and experience would lead more to self-assurance and confidence, but alas  still that brain part quivers and twitches, semi-desperate to be loved, but still playing it oh-so-casually  or at least as calmly to the other person as possible. I don't remember relationships being so hard when I was younger -- in fact, I know they weren't. It went proximity + crush = relationship, problem solved for x. Although that was easier for others, me oh I wish it happened that easily.

Now, not so much, although it can get in the way sometimes and I think it's time to break that fourth wall a little more than usual, not that it ever really happens to stay firmly in place for long but it's there.

  I've never pretended to understand men, but the one thing I can conclude from all this is the common denominator in it all -- yours truly. No, this is not the bid for pity that it may seem. Quite the opposite, actually -- I recognize that I am a unique person who looks for not just anyone. While even those might've ended before I was ready, I've dealt with it and moved on, with perhaps a minor exception or two. Everyone's allowed their Waterloo. TH was definitely  mine :/

When I first started this article, I was in the process of being in love with a few people, and I was feeling somewhat girly-stupid about one of them. Things were going well, and I was allowing myself to get a little wiibly/nevous, but more or less keeping it in check.

See, I've sat and thought about things, made decisions and come to some conclusions & has left me wondering about how I feel about people. While there are people that I love. I'm also not 'in love' with some of them, call it a mutual lust for each other, and that's fine too. And there are also friends ( see the friendship post) I came to the conclusion that not everyone I meet or get involved with would envoke or feel the same the way I had hoped.. so I grew up a little.. Alot of the way I previous thought was down to the way I had been introduced to poly, and there fore whilst I had my own moral code, I would find that the way I was 'supposed' be behave for want of a better word was not the way I wanted to behave, and I started to resent the restrictions that I had agreed to, by being involved with that person. Once that was gone I was lost for a while not knowing what I could really do but I am finding my feet,and my direction again, and my moral code is the only one that matters..

Anyhow, I'm feeling -- secure. My self-doubting voice has been turned down a lot, it still has it's moments though..while I feel confident, about things, I am still me, after all and I consider that a good thing. .
Life is getting better....

She is called the Morrigan, meaning "Phantom Queen." According to some, She is the goddess of war, of battle, of fury; a bringer of fear and panic, and a prophet. Yet, she is reported to have a vigorous/voracious sexuality, willing to share her pleasures with those she deemed worthy, but vicious and unforgiving when spurned. Various stories depict her as a crow, an eel, a heifer, and a wolf as a seductive young temptress, a fearsome warrior queen, and a feeble old hag.

She is volitile, edgy and dangerous; she lives for when the adrenaline flows vigorously, when heart pounds relentlessly, whether from the thrill of killing or the primal passion of hard, raw sex.


Many Neo-Pagans see Samhain strictly as a time of honoring the dead, while Beltaine is the sexier holiday of maypole dances and all-night orgies. Celtic wisdom, reminds us that the union of the energies of life and death is closer than that. There for, one of the most powerful stories of Irish lore, in which the Phantom Queen enjoys a passionate tryst with the Dagda while standing astride the Unshin River in County Sligo.

The goddess of war couples with the god of abundance at the threshold between the light and dark halves of the year. Significantly, after satisfying her body's hunger, she becomes The Seer,so out of the union of death and life comes renewal, expressed within her fortelling of the battle of Tuatha Dé Danann to win Ireland from the Fomorians.

Because the Morrigan is dark, not nearly as much of her wisdom and lore has survived, especially when compared to the available lore relating to a "nicer" figures. She demands attention for reasons beyond simply trying to wreck havoc. The close connection between the Washer at the Ford and the lusty lover means there is always a bit of Beltaine in every Samhain (and vice versa). Herself is not just someone who sits on a hillside waiting for people to come to her. Sometimes she does so, more often she'll often come to someone totally unbidden.

She can also be gentle to those she mentors/loves, but she's volatile, and is likely to switch from soft to rough unexpectedly. I don't see how she would be any less harsh with those who rejected her as a patroness than she was with those who rejected her as a lover.

She does not tolerate fear; indeed, if she smells it'll just make things worse. But she'll also respect you if you say 'Not yet' as I did for a while. Having Herself as a patron Goddess is not easy you have to face down your own fears, tackle the insecurities that are within, harness your own anger, and use the sexuality, sensuality wisely, rather than just sex for sex sake. This includes embracing the warrior spirit within yourself to the point where you can move through life with the graceful power and confidence of one who fears no person or thing.

Friendships...

Recently I've had conversations with a few people about the idea of friendship and what it means to me.
Talking to people, they paint a very different picture of friendship. That in reality, friends tend to come and go, and I must begrudgingly agree. If I talk about friendship with understanding, love, affection, intimacy… am I really talking about what other people consider a partner? This is what many of the people I've talked to have reported back to me – and I think they are mostly right. I experience relationships as they come, and do not categorize much – but my dream relationships would translate most closely to the idea of romantic relationships in the eyes of – well – normal people!

But considering that a bit further, I wonder in many respects if I lots of the friends I have I really treat to be "partners" of sorts.  Not everyone would fall into this category, but many would. There are also some female friends I have who I don't connect with, and that makes me consider them in a different way. But the rest – those who I do feel a connection with…  I guess the relationship I'm describing is a fusion of friendship and romantic connection.

So maybe whenever I meet people I really like, I'm falling in love in a mini little way each time. For me, these concepts are linked, but they are different. I can love a friend, but I love a romantic partner in a different way. The difference is qualitative, not quantitative, i.e. it can be the same in intensity, but a different type of love.   Indeed, some of my closest friendships recently have involved some kind of extreme closeness, not physical, but the inclination is there. Sometimes when a new friend appears on the scene or you have introduced, there is a little bit of self doubt  and of envy that they can see each other more than you do... we are human it's natural, sometimes doesn't make it any easier.

And maybe each time a friend drifts away, or puts a block on how close we're going to get together, or doesn't consider me as special as others…. I'm getting my heart broken a little bit each time. That actually explains a lot to me. I thought I was weird feeling so bad, and indeed so good, over friendships. But if each time I'm valued to someone, I feel love; and each time I'm distanced from someone, I feel a sense of being heart broken – that makes sense to me. The love that I can feel for a friend is similar to the love I can feel for my brother, ( when we got on). The love that I feel for someone that I am romantically engaged with is very different. I could love a male friend just as much as a female one.
That is my slant on things anyway, but I think each to their own, there is no right or wrong way to feel about this. There are norms and conventions, but then very many people do not conform to them. I'm not sure I want to modify the way I feel towards others though. The way I relate to people now is, well just natural to me. It doesn't feel forced or developed. Friendship will always remain the key word to me though, because of it's connotations.

NSFW...NSFW... NSFW... NSFW.....

 Written at 4am a few days ago.....
I ache. My body aches. It aches all over. I feel stiff and tense.
I need his touch. I need it like air to breathe and water to drink. I need it. My body yearns for him, like a plant stretching to the sun. I can't control or stop it, I just need it. An essential need, not a want or a desire, a need. I need his touch. Need to feel that release, tensions leaving me, stresses disappearing, problems gone and forgotten. I need his touch.

I ache to be filled and used. I strain for it. I need to feel his hands stroke my body, his eyes appraising me. Touching and turning me, squeezing my flesh, taking what's his. Assured and certain of what he owns and the pleasures he can take.

My body aches, my whole body, inside and out. My skin shivers to feel his touch, I ache and throb. My heart pounds and my skin flushes. How I need him. Need him to take me, use me, control me. Need him to make me feel owned, possessed, beloved. Used beyond my abilities to cope and held sure and firmly against his side.

I need that. I need to feel that. I need to feel his body against me, his heat inside me, filling me, leaving me nothing, no space, no breath that is my own. It is all his. Heat and sex overtake me.

My body explodes with heat and every nerve becomes alive to the tiniest touch. I need….. To just let go…. To accept....

My body is pounded by him. I feel battered and blissful, my legs shaking, any control well gone. Pleasure courses through me. I'm filled with an intensity that verges on pain, my body screams, my mind is lost… it wants…. It want it to never end and end right now. I don't know what I want. I give over, I accept, I take what he gives. I can hardly breathe. I can hardly stand, I can hardly walk. Feel my body screaming and exhausted.

I ache. My body feels like it floats on warm and sunny air. My limbs languid, my smile lazy, my body without bones. I ache inside and out. A golden glowing feeling of warmth and use. Fulfilled and sated. Content and soothed. I curl next to him, press my face to him, to touch and hold and smell.

I can barely lift my head. I need to sleep. I need to hear his breathing turn to sleep. I need to hear his heart in his chest, his body quiet. His warmth against me.

I need to... sleep....

A look....

My favourite moment with a person that you like is that one look. The look of caring, understanding, I want to rip your clothes off now... all at the same time.

It happens when they think you are not looking but you see it out of the corner of your eye. You can't help but smile. Then there is the kiss that fallows. Sweet bliss for the moment when everything else fades away....

*smiles*



  

 I am in the mood for a reflective ramble, so bear with me if I wander in and out of topics go off on a tangent.. I hope you'll find it worth while.

I try to hold back back how much I worry about people, I am sure some would find it reassuring. I was brought up to not meddle in other people's affairs and if they want re assurance they would ask. Lately it's been brought into sharp focus how much people keep inside and what it can do to them. How helpless you feel, and you question could you have done more? When the answer comes back as 'no' the temptation to tailspin is bad but logic kicks in and what's left is not quite calm acceptance but an acceptance nonetheless.

Sometimes you have to accept that you can't be everywhere for everyone, and that there is no magic wand. No matter how hard you wish for one. And that while what goes around comes around, sometimes it's the kicker that can take you completely by surprise.. good or bad.

I have been enjoying the ongoing banter fest that is Twitter.. *smiles* sometimes you only get half or even a third of the conversations that go on, but when people get going, it's a people watchers dream, *chuckles* it reminds me again that it doesn't matter how near or far they can be your friends are almost and in some cases are chosen family. A big bantering, raspberry blowing daft family. And there are times with the speed that things go and the people involved it's nice to just watch the tweets go past.

Which brings me to friends and loved ones. Sometimes I get tongue tied and I want to say something but it will sound (to me anyway) stupid or trite or just plain dumb. So I say nothing. I have started so many emails, conversations in my head, but sometimes when it comes to it I just can't do it. If I leave it for a while I can almost eloquently put things in a way that doesn't sound stupid. So it's not as if I don't care from from it, I just have no idea what to say. In that respect I am still my own worst enemy. There are good friends in my life that I want to say, I love you.

Not the romantic hearts and flowers soppy stuff. But the kind of feeling where you know that no one else can fill that puzzle shaped peice that makes up your life. You want to say 'I miss you'or 'I am proud that you are my friend' just cos because you are. I admire so many friends for so many reasons. Fighting illness on a day to day basis, fighting off the 'black dog',being a support for partners who are ill, doing something that will make a difference in foreign climes. Raising money for cancer.

I know some amazing people.

A 'nice' girl?

Here was the question: "Why is a "nice girl" like you involved in something as weird as D/s?" This question have always both amazed me and concerned me. When you begin to analyze, you come up with some pretty remarkable conclusions that are being made by people.

1. Nice girls should not be involved in the D/s lifestyle.
2. People in D/s are not nice.
3. If you are in a D/s relationship, you must not be nice.
4. D/s is weird.
5. If you're in a D/s relationship, you must be weird.
6. Weird (kinky) and nice cannot exist together in one person or in a relationship.
7) You are weird and are such an easy person to get into bed..

Looking at these, it only affirms the message that society sends to it's female members especially. All my life I had a need to be a "good girl" and to please those I held in esteem. I enjoyed being good and thrived on the praise I received for being a good girl, a good daughter, a good student and a good employee. But there was another side of me that existed inside of all that goodness.

At some point in my late adolescence or early adulthood I discovered there was a part of me that was not always good according to society's definition. Sleeping inside me was a 'darkness' that embodied all the evil things that I'd been told "bad girls" were. A pagan friend who was a lot older than me, once told me it was like a big sleeping cat, there but undisturbed..She seldom stirred from her sleep, but when she did I'd have thoughts that caused my entire body to blush. And this is why my name was given to me, a mixture of darkness and light. For years I struggled to reconcile those feelings that came calling at unexpected times and I was pretty successful. She remained locked safety away and out of sight. Only now and then did I feel her sharp claws tearing at my inner parts or hear her low growls when something aroused her. Only in my darkest fantasies did I tiptoe to where she slept and watch her dozing fitfully as her dreams disturbed her restful sleep.

As the years passed with their good and bad times, I followed the safe path. Even after my introduction to the D/s lifestyle, I was still a good girl and never strayed from my conception of what I was supposed to be. My mentor ( who I only ever spoke to online) often told me that there was a part of me that I would have to come to know and accept before I could ever be the whole submissive that any Dominant would need. His words would frequently rouse her but I was skilled at keeping her silenced and chained in the recesses of my soul where both she and I were safe. My mentor would only smile and tell me that some day I'd find peace with all the facets of personality and my switching.

I've never been a prude but I've always been modest and a bit reserved about my sexuality. As we began to delve deeper into some of the "darker" and more demanding aspects of D/s relationships, I grew increasingly aware of the sleeping cat. Very often she made herself known and her growling and clawing was an unexpected catalyst in my response to my mentor's explanations of subjects.
After one particularly subject that we talked about. My mentor expressed his surprise at my willingness to surrender more control to a Dominant. His gentle words opened a door that had remained locked for so long. "My pet, I've seen your darkness many times but are you ready to trust her with me?"

In the hours that passed, we discussed things we'd seldom put into words. All the things I'd hidden tumbled out into the light and I was able to face a part of my nature that I had tried to deny for most of my life. All of the things I'd been ashamed to acknowledge she was lustful abandon, unbridled sexual desire, wantonness and sensual pleasures. She was the animal part of me that could surrender all those things and never feel the anguish of regret or humiliation a "good girl" would feel. For the first time I understood why a dominant does the things they do. I comprehended the need for the toys, the discipline and the relentless push to reach the edge of a submissive's limits. I grasped the reason for bondage, edge-play and pain. All of it came into focus for the first time.

Once the puzzle of my own life was put together, I could see where my life-long struggle had been. I could never reconcile myself to the conflicting messages I got in growing-up and the needs I had. I was supposed to be demure but there was a driving hunger to abandon myself completely. When I tried to satisfy that craving, I was consumed with guilt for what I'd done. It was an enigma that had seemigly no logical solution. Yet I knew that even in this the 'darker side' was still being picky as I was, and that not amount of persusion  would coerce me into bed, unless we were ready to.

But then in that evening I realised being submissive and giving up control of your body and actions frees a woman from responsibility for the act of releasing her sexual nature to its fullest. You are freed from the culpability and guilt that society has used to bind you. You have no fear of the passionate person and her depraved hunger because they can be controlled by someone else's will if you trust them enough.. You can enjoy your sexuality without guilt and yet remain the "good girl."

Blind sided...

*chuckles* since I have been asked no this isn't me, SC is on Fetlife & we know the same people around the scene.

I had a friend from Fet Life crying on my virtual shoulder last night, not so much crying as annoyed at someone's thoughtlessness. I have written this from the conversation we had until late last night.

It was all arranged, they had been flirting for a while, been out for coffees, bantered a lot, they decided that 'play partners' was the way to go. They arranged to meet at a club and he would show her just how good he was with floggers. So last night came around, she was nervous, excited had prepared herself mentally for public play (she's not a small lady and is quite shy about exposing herself in a public club) She had been worried as the texts that she'd had from this man had dropped by half as this play date got nearer, but he had reassured her it was the stress of getting ready for a new job.

He walked in, with no playtoys or bags, and hugged her, kissed her on the cheek and slumped into the chair next to her. She asked if he was ok, and he launched into a whole barrage of things that had been stressing him out, so she listened. She made a comment of ' Well hopefully flogging me will help get all the stress out' as normally that would get him to relax and banter. She wasn't quite prepared for the answer of 'Oh why? Think the best that we can ever be would be friends as I wouldn't want to spoil things'

He then went to the bar and got talking to a few friends that were there. My friend, was stunned and decided that she should leave and go home. When I texted her this morning, he'd not even texted or called to find out where she had got to.

She is saying that at least he told me, some would just let stuff fizzle out and then not contact you unless there was a problem. I am hoping that I would be able to spot tips to make me realise all is not as it seems but sometimes  you get blind sided.

There is no moral, nor anything I can really add to this. Sometimes you just have tpo accept that no matter how much you want something it does rely on another.. And if they don't feel the same way, maybe it's better to just accept & move on. But we have complex emotions and feelings.. this is not always as easy as it looks in black and white...

As the saying goes, Been there, got the t shirt. :)

Becoming....

We are always becoming.
Change and evolution stalks each step that we take, each new partner we interact with.
We learn, we grow, we transform from the timid, quaking neophyte starting to embrace the inner shadow that sets them apart, makes them unique to the bold, brash person that has wound their way through the thorns and uncertainty to emerge on the other side in control of who they are and what they want.
We learn to bend, to flex, to wrap ourselves around the idea that we can be who WE choose to be rather than what society tells us to be.
We are always becoming.

Musings on meetings & emotions...

 Just a collection of musings on the emotions and feelings when meeting what could be a new lover... ( this has been rambling around for a few years but have refined it a little).


When we meet someone new we all have hopes and fears .This could be the start of something wonderful and it could also end in pain.You may find further down the line you are not compatible, but sometimes that is just how it goes.


The first tinglings arrive, when you feel they have what you are looking for in a person.Then you allow those sparks to start flying, you take those first steps with someone with hope for more.

The more you talk the more you want.You fight to keep both feet on the ground not wanting to go too deep too soon. Holding on to the mind and not the heart to the harsh reality's of past hurts. Juggling the rational and irrational rolling thoughts what if this, what if that.

Your aware of how deep this could go so you fill with fear as well as excitement.You find yourself falling under their spell you fight but you fall all the same. They speak to you in volumes and touch your very soul.

You start giving a little of you as you feel deep inside that need building and aching. Then when you give and it gets returned with something bigger you feel overcome with emotion. The exchange begins learning each other what makes them tick what makes them happy or sad. Both giving and receiving building and growing.

Facing the fears that we build up over time when things fail are hard. But to give up trying is to give up living. So right now I'm living enjoying it for what is now. I hope that I will be enjoying it tomorrow too